


Broken

by dearprouvaire



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 12:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearprouvaire/pseuds/dearprouvaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And right there, Enjolras didn’t care what the outcome of the following day would be, because just for this moment, his broken world was fixed for a little while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in this fandom and I wrote it in a 30 minute Spanish class, so don't expect too much! I really hope you like it, though! :)

The sun was slowly setting and dipped the barricade in orange light. Enjolras was sitting, his back propped up against a broken table, on the floor. His blonde curls were sticking to his forehead and the left side of his face was smudged with dried blood. The past hours had certainly been to most painful ones of his young life. He had not only seen his friends die, stabbed with swords and pierced by bullets, but he himself had also murdered some of the soldiers. Even if they were fighting for a different goal, even if they tried to kill him, in the end they were still human. At that moment, Enjolras just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. The young man, with his burning passion for a better tomorrow, had felt his hope burn out during the first attack. He couldn’t let himself give in to the sleep that was making his body go numb, he had a responsibility. He had to stay strong for the people, his friends, who looked up to him as if he was their leader. They trusted him with their lives and were willing to die at the opponents hand for the vision he had planted in their heads. 

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear Grantaire approaching him. His steps were slightly slurred and once Enjolras had noticed him, he saw the almost empty bottle in his hand. It scared him that his friend had turned to the alcohol once again, but as usual, his fear turned into anger within the blink of an eye. “Grantaire! Put that bottle away! You will need a clear head for tomorrow!” he bellowed and rose from where he was sitting. He was furious and grabbed to bottle from the other man. Grantaire’s fingers cramped up and he wouldn’t let go, so Enjolras stopped trying. He dropped back onto the ground and was ready to let it go, but to his surprise, Grantaire didn’t stroll off as he usually did, but he let himself sink down next to him. 

Only then he noticed the wet cloth he had in his hand. As if asking for his permission, Grantaire held it up and Enjolras turned his head ever so slightly so that his cheek was facing the other man’s hand. With gentle wipes, Grantaire started cleaning off the blood, making sure not to cause the man who he admired so much any pain. Enjolras leaned into the touch and slowly let his eyes fall shut, the sleep he had wished for so dearly earlier seeming too far out of reach now. He tried to blank out the muffled voices around him and to just let himself be calmed by Grantaire’s careful strokes across his cheek. “Thank you…” he quietly whispered, not even sure if he was being heard. It was quiet for a while and soon Grantaire had stopped the cleaning and now just had Enjolras face cupped in his hands. “We will be alright.” Was all he said, underlined by a small smile. At that, Enjolras had to smile, too. Grantaire had said “we”, not “you”. And right there, Enjolras didn’t care what the outcome of the following day would be, because just for this moment, his broken world was fixed for a little while. The pair stayed silent for the rest of the night, not saying a word but leaning against each other, shielding and protecting their savior from the nightmares their restless sleep was bound to bring on.


End file.
